The Only Exception
by Ryebread321
Summary: On his last year at Hogwarts, infamous Sirius Black will find the one exception to the fawning fan girls. Lily Evans' friend (whose name he doesn't quite know, even after years of going to school with her) hardly pays any attention to Sirius, but can he change her mind about him?
1. Distracted from Distractions

**Sirius Black's POV:**

I woke up from my deep slumber groggy and annoyed. Someone was rapping their knuckles on the door of my bedroom at nine in the morning. The problem with this situation was that I never got out of bed until at least noon. The sun shone through my window, even with the floor length curtains drawn, and I couldn't get back to sleep and continue my dream about a faceless leggy blonde with a girlish giggle and magic hands.

"Sirius, dear, wake up," said James' mum. I groaned and flopped over onto my belly.

"Mrs. P… It's not even twelve, yet," I told her and then shoved my face into my pillow to block out the sunlight that was bursting through into my bedroom. I could hear Mrs. P laugh and I could picture her rolling her eyes, as I'm sure she was doing.

"If I woke you up at noon, you'd be late for your first day of school. You wouldn't want to miss your first day of your last year, would you?" Her footsteps tapped away from the door.

I was awake now.

I rolled out of bed, literally, and fell on the floor getting eve more tangled in my grey sheets. After rubbing my sore head and letting loose a few choice curse words, I struggled out of my blankets and pulled on a pair of jeans along with a Hobgoblin's t-shirt that I bought last year at a concert. I checked my shaggy hair in the mirror, making sure it was alright and then I bounded down the stairs while simultaneously pulling on my black leather jacket.

When I made it to the kitchen, James and his dad were already eating Mrs. P's homemade waffles and James' mum was pouring syrup over the top of mine.

I looked at the two blokes sitting at the table. They were spitting images of each other. Both had wire-rimmed glasses and jet black hair that stuck up in all directions, although James was the only one who consciously tried to keep in that way. Like dad, like son, they both had a tall, lanky build and hazel eyes framed behind their spectacles.

I sat down opposite Mr. P and right beside my best friend, James, when I got my breakfast. We ate in silence, savoring the wonderful waffles on our plates. About halfway through eating my breakfast, Mr. P stood up from the table and put his syrupy dish in the self-washing sink.

"I'm off to work. Stay out of trouble, boys," he said, looking at the both of us pointedly. We glanced at each other and grinned devilishly while Mr. P just laughed. "What was I thinking? That will never happen. Try not to get caught, then, yeah?"

Mrs. P looked at her husband like he was a child to scold with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed.

"Don't encourage them, Charlie," she told him. He just grinned boyishly and kissed her cheek before apparating from the kitchen.

James and I continued to eat several waffles, finishing just in time to leave for King's Cross Station. Both of us lugged our trunks down the stairs, grumbling about the weight. I didn't turn seventeen until September 20th and James didn't reach adulthood until March 27th, so we couldn't preform magic outside of Hogwarts, even to transport our trunks.

"Okay boys, I'm going to trust you this year to get to King's Cross without any mishaps. Do you think you can manage?" Mrs. P asked dubiously.

"Of course, Mum. Why would you ever think anything would ever happen?" he asked innocently, eyes wide. I snickered as he laid it on thick.

Mrs. P rolled her eyes, but I could see her holding in an amused smile.

"I trust you. Be good. Stay safe. I love you," she told us. She went up to James and kissed him on the cheek. He looked peeved and proceeded to wipe it off of his cheek when his mum turned her back. Mrs. P did the same to me and I did exactly what James did, though secretly I didn't want to.

Since I moved into the Potter's during the middle of last year, Mr. and Mrs. P have been more like a mum and dad to me than my own parents, hence the reason I was living away from my ancestral house. I didn't mind Mrs. P kissing me on the cheek because it made me feel loved, which was something that I never experienced before. The only reason I wiped it off of my cheek was because I knew James would take the mick out of me if I didn't.

James and I drove my motorbike, keeping our trunks in the cart attached to it, to King's Cross and hefted our trunks and James' owl, Edgar, onto a cart. We strolled leisurely towards the barrier, talking as we went.

"So, head boy this year, yeah? That's going to be… interesting," I said slyly, looking at him through my peripheral vision, wanting to see his reaction.

"That doesn't mean that I'm going to follow the rules, if that's what you're getting at," retorted James with a scoff.

"I wasn't worried about _that_," I told him. "I was more concerned that you might jump Evans, seeing as you're in a dorm together." I laughed as his ears turned a light shade of pink at the mention of his long-time crush.

"I'm not going to 'jump' Evans. She would kill me, literally. Lily hates me," he said dejectedly.

"Yeah, she really does," I agreed, nodding my head. James turned to glare at me.

"Thanks for the support, mate," he said sarcastically.

"What? You said it first. I was just confirming what you already know. I don't know why you keep going after her, mate. There are plenty of other birds that would kill to go out the star Gryffindor chaser, James Potter. Why not one of them?" James just sighed.

"They're not Lily, Padfoot," he said simply, using my nickname, as if her being Lily explained everything. "I love her. I won't give up. I'm also not like you." He looked at me pointedly and I shrugged with nonchalance, still not getting what he liked about Evans so much.

"Eh, whatever. I don't get it, mate, but whatever raises your wand." Prongs tried to look disgusted, but let out a quiet laugh, and I snickered.

"Come on, Prongs. You can have one of my fan girls if you want. I'm sure they'd go for you if I asked," I suggested with a snicker.

"Don't. Just don't even go there, Padfoot. They're all bloody mad." James shook his head and rolled his eyes before coming to a halt in front of our other friends.

We found a gaunt and tired Remus Lupin sitting on a bench by the train beside pudgy Peter Pettigrew.

"Wotcher Padfoot, Prongs," greeted Remus with a smile that didn't match his exhausted appearance. Peter waved enthusiastically, but didn't say anything.

"You look like hell, Moony," I said to Remus as I took in his haggard appearance. He was extremely pale and skinnier than usual. Dark circles hung in bags under his eyes and he sported a fresh cut above his left eyebrow. I was sure that there were more where that came from.

"That's what happens when you blokes aren't around to help me with my furry little problem," he said with a grimace.

"Is that rabbit still giving you trouble?" joked Prongs. We all chuckled, though Peter laughed a lot louder than needed. He was always like that; wanting to be liked; trying too hard to get attention. It was kind of sad that he had such low self-esteem when with us friends, but he was as loyal as they came.

All four of us stopped laughing and became somber.

"Sorry about that, though. Mum would never understand about us helping you. She thinks it would be too dangerous. She doesn't hate what you are, but she wouldn't want us being there during the full moon," Prongs apologized. I nodded. It was true.

"Mrs. P would have a heart attack," I agreed apologetically.

"She has a right to, mates. I _am_ dangerous. You shouldn't be with me when I'm…" He winced like it was painful to speak about. "Transformed," Moony finished sadly.

"Moony, you're our friend. We stick together, right, mates?" I asked, looking around at the other agreeing faces. Prongs and Wormtail nodded.

After that uncomfortably deep conversation we boarded the train and tried to find a compartment.

To my disappointment and James' excitement, all the boxes were full. This resulted in us sitting with Lily Evans and her quiet, meek, Ravenclaw friend, whose name I still didn't know. Maybe something like Morgan or Mallory or Tess.

While Prongs hit on Evans (quite badly, I might add), I surveyed her friend. Since my best mate had a thing for her best mate, I'd spent a great deal of time around her, but I'd ignored her. Not only had she been plain, but she was probably hopelessly infatuated with me, as was every other girl in Hogwarts.

Now, though, the nameless bird had filled out over the summer.

In reality, Evans's friend wasn't all that bad looking, obviously being a late bloomer. She had long, flowing, black hair that fell down her back and bright, hazel eyes that were trained with fierce intent on a book in her hands.

She looked up and caught me staring, so I quickly turned my head, but I knew it wouldn't make a difference. She knew I had been looking. Let the infatuation and hopeless flirtation begin. I cringed inwardly.

When not a word came out of the friend, I tuned out Evan's yelling and Prongs's desperate flirting and took a quick peek at the girl again, against my better judgment.

She _really_ wasn't bad looking. In fact, she was quite attractive. The girl had porcelain skin and long, shapely legs that made up for a small bust. She was already in her uniform, so I saw that she was in Ravenclaw, which means she has brains. That's a plus.

Even though she caught me checking her out (yes, I admit it), she didn't even say anything to me, which was odd. Normally, girls fling themselves at me, but not her. She just ignored me and I couldn't tell if that annoyed me by deflating my ego a bit, or thrilled me because there was at least one decent girl at this school.

**The Quiet, Meek Ravenclaw's POV:**

I woke up from a troubled sleep, feeling exhausted. Wiping the eye-bogies from my eyes, I hopped in the shower to wake myself up. The water re-invigorated me as it ran over my face. Once I finished cleaning myself, I didn't even bother getting dressed into muggle clothes, but instead slipped on my uniform.

Without a simple good-bye to or from my parents, both of whom I walked past when I headed to our multi-car garage, I snatched the keys off of the rack on my way out and slid into my baby blue Fiat Spider.

Finally, I pulled into the King's Cross Station parking lot and locked the doors of my pride and joy before taking a seat in the carriage. I arrived early every year and decided to make it my job to save a compartment for me and my best friend, Lily Evans, before others could claim them all.

Lils arrived about an hour later and chucked her trunk up onto the racks above us. She took a seat opposite me and started to gush about her summer at a speed of 1,000 words per minute despite the fact that I already knew what she was telling me as she recounted every detail of her vacation in her letters.

While I nodded and interjected frequently, because that's how it went with Lily, she suddenly stopped talking and her face went blank. I followed her eyes to a greasy-looking boy our age by the name of Severus Snape.

"Lily, please, can we talk about what happened?" he pleaded. "I didn't mean to call you… what I did. I'm so sorry."

Lily stood up from the cushioned bench and I saw a sliver of hope sparkling in Snape's eyes before she slammed the sliding door in his face. After that moment she stopped talking and sulked in a foul mood.

I gave her a reassured smile which she returned with tears in her eyes.

"Don't worry about him, Lils. He is nothing more than a git because of what he said about you. He doesn't deserve your tears," I told her as I gave her a quick hug.

"But… he's been such a good friend," she broke off with a sob, "and he has had such a hard life. Maybe I should forgive him…"

I looked at her with pity in my eyes.

"You know that's not a good idea. Especially now that he is part of _that_ group with Mulciber and Avery and Malfoy," I reasoned with her.

She nodded in agreement and wiped the tears from her porcelain face. I, then, grabbed a book and started studying it thoroughly, knowing she needed her space.

About another half an hour later, I was still busy reading _Achievements in Charms_ when the door slid open to reveal the infamous Marauders, as they so dubbed themselves. The quartet of boys ruled the school with a mix of mischief, brains, looks, and athletic ability. Or, at least three of them did. Peter was the oddball. That aside, they were four peas in a pod.

James Potter was a tall, lean fellow with messy, black hair that he purposefully styled twenty-four-seven, running his hands through it to make his locks attractively messy (which I saw all the time, being friends with Lily, though I found the effect less than stimulating). He wore wire-rimmed glasses over his bright green eyes and an arrogant smirk that reduced ninety percent of the female population to puddles. (I was not part of that majority.) He was a constant prankster, as were his friends, but somehow managed to become head boy, even though he'd never been a prefect. I was as baffled as you are.

His partner in crime, Sirius Black, was a rebel, both in looks and in life. He had shaggy, black hair that touched his broad shoulders which led to bulky biceps and a Beater's build. Sirius also came equipped grey eyes that gave him the perfect "tortured soul" look and always used one expression; his aloof, "I-don't-give-a-shite" face. He was the only known Black to be in a house other than Slytherin and he was thrown out of the "noble" House of Black by his mum last year. He was the black sheep, if you'll pardon the pun, and that fact alone made girls go wild around him. He was the right combination of trouble and troubled.

Peter Pettigrew was a stubby bloke. He wasn't unattractive with mousy brown hair and bright blue eyes, but he was more puppy-dog cute than actual dating material. He was of average intelligence and less than average athletic skills and was often outshined by his friends. He literally followed in their footsteps, scrambling after them like a pet. It was slightly pathetic mixed with a dash of endearing. His friends were his mentors and he looked up to them.

Last, but not least, was Remus Lupin. He had brown hair and was tall and lanky, like Potter, but not for the same reasons. He was constantly sick and always had to return home due to some badly behaved rabbit which seemed to take a toll on him. (I, personally, would just get rid of the rabbit, but I digress.) With pale skin and exhaustion written on his face, he almost had pity me carved into his forehead. Although he was sickly and stressed, he was brilliant in school and had been made prefect, and would have been made head boy, but I'm sure that his mystery illness stopped that. He was the least likely to be a part of the Marauders, but my personal favorite.

I peeked at Lily to see her giving me an aggravated look. I gave her an expression of sympathy before going back to reading. Part of me had a pointless hope that if I ignored them long enough, the four nuisances would disappear.

Though hopeless the idea may be, it was better than the alternative. A few years ago, I attempted to sit Lily and the object of her annoyance, James Potter, down to reconcile their differences and I ended up barricading myself in my dorm bathroom whilst Lils switched between going after me and Potter.

Lily may be a tad melodramatic and had the temper of an insulted hippogriff (and I'm understating both of those attributes), but she was loyal, brilliant, and kind enough to befriend a shy Ravenclaw girl like me.

I am, and have always been, a perfect example of an introvert. Shy, socially awkward, and slightly too upfront, I wasn't aware of the fact that I had to put effort into making friends when I was a tot, but when I learned that I had to, I pulled a turtle move and hid in my shell. My personal characteristics that I have now have come from years of avoiding most social interaction. As an only child of parents that weren't around often, I spent time by myself with my books and was accustomed to being alone.

Because of that fun fact about me, you can imagine my surprise when, on the trip to Hogwarts before my first year, Lily opened the compartment door, sat across from me and started talking to me as if we're best friends. It was quite a shock, but the longer I knew her, the more I liked her and by the end of first year, we were inseparable. We may not talk constantly, but I feel comforted when Lily is nearby. It's nice having a friend.

I was pulled out of my memories by a feeling that someone was watching me. I could feel a pair of eyes on my face, the person's gaze burning into me.

I looked up to see Black gawking at me. When he saw that I'd caught him, he glanced away quickly, but I knew. What I didn't know was why?

I pushed away a half-curious, half-irritated feeling and focused in on the usual argument that was occurring in the train car.

"Potter, sod off," Lily said sternly.

"Oh, come on, Evans, just one date. I promise that it'll be worth your while," Potter said with a waggle of his eyebrows. I cringed internally. That was the wrong thing to say. Lily took it suggestively, as she should have, and smacked him across the face. He should know by now not to make a joke of her.

Lily's face turned bright red, but with embarrassment or anger, I don't know. It was probably a mix of both.

"I would never go on a date with you, Potter. You're a foul, arrogant, loathsome toe rag and—," she started, but Lupin cut her off to avoid confrontation.

"Erm… Lily, we need to get to the prefect cart. You and James have to run the meeting, remember?" Lily took a deep breath and when Remus met my eyes, I gave him a grateful look for defusing the situation which he returned with a slight nod of his head.

"Yes, I remember. Thank you, Remus," she spoke curtly, letting her anger flow away. With one last glare at Potter, who looked both humbled and humiliated, and a wave goodbye to me, the three of them left to go to the prefect meeting with Lily leading the way.

This, unfortunately and awkwardly, left the compartment to Pettigrew, Black, and me. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Pettigrew lay on the bench across from me and closed his eyes for a nap before arriving at Hogwarts.

I went back to my book and let my black hair fall over my face, blocking me from the rest of the world, and the people in the compartment, particularly.

I hadn't even read through a paragraph before I felt the cushion underneath me shift. Setting my book down on my lap, I carefully marked my page with a piece of ribbon attached to the spine. I turned to see who had sat next to me and found Sirius Black. He sat only about six inches away from me, even though there was a whole other side of the bench.

I masked a scowl and picked up my book again, ignoring him. It should be a law that people should leave space between themselves and me. Has nobody heard of a personal bubble?

"So, how're you doing?" he asked uncomfortably with a nod of his head. Well, it was uncomfortable to me. To Black, he probably though he sounded friendly or even flirtatious. I just thought he was trying too hard.

"Fine," I replied without looking up, trying to start reading again.

"What are you reading?" he questioned, but he wasn't really interested. I turned the book cover toward him and continued reading. He scooted closer to me.

"Brilliant. You sound like you must be really smart, yeah?" he said, more stating it than asking. I didn't say anything, hoping he would just take the hint and bugger off.

Instead of figuring out that I didn't want to talk to him, Black just kept going on with the awkward, one-sided conversation. He seemed to notice that he wasn't getting anywhere with me, so he changed topics and cut off the "charm".

"Why are you studying before we have even arrived at school?" he asked bluntly. I let out a sigh of annoyance.

"Because," I replied simply.

He still didn't get it.

"What's the book about?" he questioned once more.

"Read it yourself."

"Listen. You're attractive. I'm attractive. Why don't we do something else that's more… pleasurable?" he said, sliding his hand up my pleated skirt, grazing my thigh. That was the last straw.

I slapped his hand away.

"You know, this isn't a brothel. Can't you just leave the well enough alone? And for future reference, I don't want to sleep with you," I huffed. I grabbed my book and stomped to an empty compartment to read in silence.

**Sirius's POV:**

I watched in surprise as what's-her-name walked out of the booth.

Wormtail looked partly confused and partly dazed, woken up by that girl's rant.

"What did you do now?" he asked groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"What do you mean 'what did I do'?" I repeated back defensively. "She was the one that shrieked." Peter just shook his head and sighed.

"Touchy. Was it because she's the first girl to scream at you instead of falling over herself to shag you?" he asked with a yawn.

"That's not it. She's just being difficult. I was just trying to show her a good time," I said, feeling peeved. Peter snickered.

"Is she difficult or are you just losing your touch? You seem to have gotten uglier over the summer, Padfoot," he mocked. "And why are you paying any attention to that bird at all? You never go for anyone at this school anymore."

Before I could protest against his monstrosity of an idea or endeavor to answer the question that I didn't even know how to solve myself, he got up from the bench and left me alone to follow the food trolley that just strolled by.

I sat there for one moment thinking about that girl. I wasn't normally interested in any of the girls here as I had already been through anyone interesting. Sure, I might have flirted shamelessly a time or two, but girls at Hogwarts were too willing and too ready to throw themselves all over me now and as ashamed as I am to admit it, I was getting bored by it. However, now, I was presented with the challenge that I needed.

Maybe I'm just arrogant, but I was used to the flirting and the appreciating once-overs, but I wasn't accustomed to complete rejection. I also wasn't accustomed to the awkwardness that erupted from my mouth. I didn't know what to say to her. I was completely tongue-tied, so the words that spurted out of my mouth sounded strange and foreign like I hadn't caught on to proper English.

Not even the muggle girls, and only girls, that I currently fooled around with over break had that effect on me.

I almost felt bad about making her upset, but then I saw Laci Garrott walk by, still in her muggle clothes which consisted of a pair of short shorts that barely covered her arse and a tye-dye tee that she tied in the back, showing her stomach. Distraction acquired.

My no-Hogwarts-girls rule flew out of the window as I slid out of the compartment and silently followed my prey.

Laci would be thrilled to be the first Hogwarts girl in a while to have a fling with the famous Sirius Black.

I got to Laci just in time, as she was about to enter her box with all her friends. I put on my most charming smirk, ran my hands through my hair one last time, and "accidentally" bumped into her.

"Oh, hey, Sirius," she said giggling and playing with her long blond hair. She leaned against the door and I put my hand on the door beside her, leaning in close, running the back of my hand down her cheek before trailing down her arm to her thin waist.

"Wotcher, Laci. You're looking gorgeous, as always," I said to her with a wink. She giggled again and I had to brush off a twinge of annoyance at her shrill laugh. Just focus on her body, I reminded myself.

"You're looking pretty great yourself, Sirius," she told me, looking me up and down and biting her lower lip. I smirked wider in triumph. I still had it.

I thought of the girl again and faltered, but pushed her out of my mind. She was threatening to throw me off my game.

"Well, Gryffindor's number one beater has to stay in shape. What say you to catching up on my favorite form of exercise?" I asked her, stroking her arm and then moving back down to her waist and arse. She giggled and grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hall and towards the last car on the train that had luggage stacked ceiling high.

We barely made it through the sliding door when Laci started to snog me. Her hands were all over me and I would have been doing the same, but all I could do was freeze.

In the corner of the baggage car was that girl. She had put her book down and was looking at me. She was staring right into my eyes with a disgusted expression and I was bothered by it.

I pushed Laci away more forcefully that I should have.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" she asked, pouting with her bottom lip stuck out.

"There's someone here," I told her, although it shouldn't have bothered me. We could always find another compartment, maybe even kick some first years out of theirs, but I didn't want to be the source the girl's further revulsion.

"How about we do this later?" I offered half-heartedly. Laci just spotted the girl in the back and blushed before leaving the booth and giving me a wink and one last kiss.

"So…," I said nervously, fiddling with the zipper on my jacket.

"Do you do that all the time or is she just special?" the girl asked, sounding extremely sarcastic while saying the last part.

"It… it's not like that," I lied, knowing perfectly well that she wouldn't believe me. Frankly, I didn't even know why I was lying. I just had this craving for her approval.

"Of course," she said looking slightly entertained by my discomfort and obvious fib. Well, at least she wasn't scowling anymore. We both stayed where we were and awkwardly looked around the compartment for a few minutes.

"Don't you think you should get dressed, Black?" she suggested. I looked down at what I was wearing. I'd completely forgotten about changing into my dress robes.

I started to walk out of the compartment when I turned back with a need to explain my actions.

"Okay, I admit, it _was_ like that, but I just needed a distraction and…," I trailed off as I saw her looking amused again. I was rambling.

"You don't have to explain to me, Black. I have no opinion of you," she said simply. I found myself a little let down. I wanted her to have an opinion of me. I sought her approval, her favor.

I shook my head as if to get these thoughts from my mind. Why did I crave this bird's acceptance? What was it about her that made me want to please her?

"Um… thanks, I guess… erm… what's your name?" I asked sheepishly. The unnamed girl looked unimpressed and just a bit irritated. She huffed quietly before answering me.

"Molly Hughes. Don't worry, though, because we've only been in the same grade and classes for seven years."

"Okay. Thanks, Hughes," I said and smiled a guilty grin.

She gave me a small, though slightly sarcastic, smile back and I left the compartment feeling strangely satisfied. Now, I could put a name to a face.


	2. Two Awkward Encounters

**Molly Hughes's POV:**

The next few weeks after my strange encounter with Black were normal.

As always, the start of term Hogwarts feast began with Headmaster Dumbledore's annual speech which forewarned of the dangers that lie in wait in the Forbidden Forest. Of course, the feast wouldn't be the same without the Marauder's first prank of the term.

The jesters almost had me fooled at first as their prank was later than the norm, but even I couldn't help but laugh alongside many other Gryffindors when the hats atop the Professors' heads started to dance to the tune of Celestina Warbeck. That alone had me snorting obnoxiously, but when all of our shoes slipped off of our feet and tapped in rhythm down the middle of the Great Hall, I had to gasp for breath.

After the first day, things felt like I hadn't been gone for three months. Classes, homework, and talking with Lily; same old, same old. The only difference was the amount of work. This year was going to be rigorous as the N.E.W.T.'s were coming up, so I spent ample time in the library, studying.

As of now, I decided to take a small break and was curled up in my blue and bronze bed, reading a book (yes, another book), without my dorm mates here to bug me. The other three girls were studying in the common room right now. I was just getting to the good part when Lily stormed into my dorm after her patrolling shift. She was always able to figure out the Ravenclaw riddles.

"I hate him! I hate Potter! He so arrogant and selfish and rude and… ugh! I just hate him!" she growled, pacing back and forth in front of my bed, muttering profanities about Potter under her breath with her fiery red hair whipping back and forth when she turned.

"Are you done now?" I asked her when she paused her rant and stopped at the foot of my bed.

"No. He's disgusting with his stupid messy hair and his stupid glasses and he's just so—."

"Stupid?" I guessed with a smothered laugh.

"Yes! Thank you!" she yelled, not hearing my amusement. I sighed and decided to indulge my best friend.

"What did he do this time?"

"I found him in my room! In my room! And what was he doing there you might be wondering?" she ranted. I shook my head no, jokingly, but she wasn't paying attention.

"He was reading my diary! My own diary! How could he?"

"Maybe because he likes you and every time he says anything to you, even on the occasion that it's actually nice, you yell at him. He just wanted to know you in an, albeit, creepy way," I said truthfully. She glared at me with a fiery gaze that, if looks could kill, would mean my certain death.

"Or not…," I retracted. Lily sat down on my bed and fell backwards on it, staring at the royal blue canopy.

"Maybe you're right, Mol," she said quietly. I was so surprised that I forgot how to speak for a moment.

"I'm right? Did you just say I'm right about James Potter? Potter? The same bloke that you loathe with every fiber of your being? That James Potter?" I asked incredulously. She nodded quickly.

"I mean maybe I'm just being too harsh, you know? I just need to calm down and not let him get to me so much. That's what he wants, isn't it? He wants to get under my skin and make me squirm. I can't let him get that satisfaction," Lily announced resolutely. I mentally slapped my forehead. I can't believe I thought she was going to give him a chance. How silly of me.

"Of course that's all he wants. It's not like he might desire your love or anything. Stupid me. Why did I think that?" I said sarcastically.

"It is. Mol, if he liked me in that way, then he would ask me out properly, not jokingly. He never has. It's all a big jest for him. He just likes to embarrass and humiliate me. Potter never takes anything seriously." I sighed inwardly. It was useless trying to explain to Lily the completely simple and confused mind of James Potter.

"Whatever you say, Lils," I said to her, but she didn't appear to hear me. Either that or she ignored me. The latter was more likely when I thought about it.

We were silent for a minute and then she spoke up.

"Can I sleep here for the night? I don't want to stay with Potter… alone." I thought she was being rather ridiculous. Was he vulgar? Yes. Love-struck? Yes. But a creep who would go into her room while she slept? I didn't think so… or at least I hope he wouldn't. You never really know with that bloke.

"Fine, Lils. Headsies-footsies," I told her and she put her feet near my pillow and her head down at the foot of my bed.

After about five minutes I could faintly hear her whistling snore, but a familiar sense of insomnia welcomed me like an old friend. I kept tossing and turning for hours, trying to get comfortable. At one point Lily kicked me in the back of the head and told me to stop moving, but there was no position that could satisfy my alert and awake brain. Finally at one o' two in the morning, according to my watch, I got out of bed, slid my feet into bunny slippers, and cast a disillusionment charm on myself as to sneak to the kitchens unseen.

I crept down the corridors quietly until I reached a quite large and unoriginal painting of a bowl of fruit. With one last look around to make sure I wasn't seen by patrolling teachers or prefects (because even with the disillunsionment charm, one can never be too careful), I tickled the pear in the painting.

The still-life swung open and revealed a kitchen full of hustling and bustling house elves.

"Hello, Ms. Hughes," squeaked one house elf named Perry. "What can we do for you today?" I smiled and waved at him before answering.

"Well, could I have a cup of warm milk? I can't sleep." Perry smiled knowingly before running off to fetch the drink.

The poor little house elf had been the victim of my late night munchies and sleepless walks. Perry, the trooper that he is, though, took it well, like all house elves do. We gained some sort of friendship, or at least as much as a witch and a house elf can have.

Once he disappeared, I went to find my usual seat at the small wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. It was about a foot and a half tall with tiny chairs to match. It appeared to be built for a child. However, it looked a little different today; sitting on the opposite end of the table was Black, looking at me with a confused expression.

**Sirius Black's POV:**

Ironically, I had gotten less sleep than I normally do last night and yet, at this moment, I felt wide awake. Even with my grueling quidditch practice and essays, I was still alert.

Every time I tried to sleep my mind was assaulted by thoughts of Molly Hughes and I couldn't figure out why. She was different, that's for sure, and I wanted to curl her jet black hair around her ear, stare at those piercing eyes, and I was drawn to the way she didn't seem to like me. It was crazy, I know, but she was just… different. I had this puzzling urge to get to know her as if I were put in a trance.

Merlin's beard, I was going barmy. I was going soft. These feelings scared me and I needed to get rid of them. I turned over once more in my bed.

"Padfoot, go to sleep," whispered Moony.

"Sorry," I whispered back. I heard Prongs groan.

"Shut it, mates. I'm trying to sleep." I flipped over again, fidgeting in my bed.

"Seriously, Sirius, stop moving!" yelled Prongs. He wasn't appreciative when people woke him up.

"What has your knickers in a twist, Padfoot?" asked Remus, while Peter slept soundly through all this. We practically had to push him out of bed in the mornings.

"Hughes," I grumbled.

Ignoring the murmured questions, I threw the scarlet sheets off of me and slipped a plain white tee shirt on over my usual half-naked sleeping attire without explaining further. Grabbing the Marauder's Map that Peter, James, Remus, and I made in fifth year, I snuck out of the portrait hole and into the pitch-black corridors to give my roommates some relief.

I looked down at the Marauder's map, trying to find the best path to the kitchen without getting caught.

Even now, I was enthralled with the map and amazed at our brilliance in making it. The parchment to anyone who wasn't James, Remus, Peter, or me, anyone who wasn't a Marauder, was just that; a parchment. It was tattered and old and went unnoticed by slews of teachers. Although to a Marauder, it was gold. When the phrase "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" was uttered, the map appears showing every single person on Hogwarts' grounds in their exact location.

Right now I could see clusters of students in their dormitories, sleeping, and many teachers patrolling the halls. There was even a pair of students snogging in one of the corridors about to be caught by Professor Flitwick. It would be tricky, but I found a path to the kitchen that could work.

Narrowly escaping the wheezy caretaker, Argus Filch, and his flea-trap of a cat, Mrs. Norris, I tickled the pear and slipped into the kitchen with nobody the wiser. I was met by Tilly, a house elf working in the kitchen that was smaller than usual. She was a little less than two feet and had a hard time carrying dishes around. I tried to help her out once, but she looked terrified when I offered, so now I just watched pityingly as she struggled to bring out my usual cup of warm butterbeer along with a treacle tart, just because it sounded good.

In the middle of drinking the butterbeer, the object of my wakefulness walked through the opening and I felt mild irritation mixed with a foreign yearning.

Hughes didn't even notice me as she walked in and had a quick chat with Perry. Even in baggy, Ravenclaw pajama bottoms, a black tank top, and bedhead she looked amazing. I loved the bunny slippers that she wore on her feet, also, finding them undeniably adorable. I watched her silently, trying to figure out something to say, but words escaped me. I felt like an idiotic tosser.

Finally, she turned and saw me. Surprise appeared on her face before she went back to her normal, passive expression. I found myself wondering who, if anyone, actually knew how she was feeling, what she was thinking because it couldn't be determined from her expressions.

"Oh, it's you," she greeted me with a side glance to the door, her escape route.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic, Hughes," I retorted cynically. She just shrugged without a care.

"It's not my fault that you hit on me and then disrupted my peaceful existence with your sex-capades. Plus, to top it all off, I can't sleep and then find you, the last person I wanted to see, here.

I opened my mouth to retort, but not a single smart-arse comment came out. Instead, I decided to ignore her jibes and try to be civil, even if she was making it very difficult.

"Same. Why can't you sleep?" I asked her, noting that she rolled her eyes at my obvious change of topic.

"Dunno. What about you?" I sat there for a minute trying to figure out how to respond. I couldn't tell her that I was thinking, especially dreaming about her. As my mind was brought back to my night visions, I recalled things that made me blush, though I've never been bashful about my wet dreams before.

"Erm… I… uh…" I tried. My brain turned to mash in my head. Hughes looked at me as if I were mental. Luckily I was interrupted by Perry, who brought Hughes a steaming mug of milk and a small biscuit with a gooey jelly on top.

She smiled and thanked the elf, who only looked flustered at her gesture of appreciation. Once she acquired her drink and biscuit, she turned to me and gave me a sarcastic salute.

"We really need to stop meeting like this," she said with a snicker, though I couldn't tell if she was actually joking.

She, then, disillusioned herself and slipped out of the kitchen unseen.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! I thought to myself following her departure from the room.

I mentally kicked myself. She thought I was a complete imbecile. I knew she was different, but I acted like an idiot anyways. Not only that, but I completely forgot that I was supposed to be getting over this… whatever it was.

Tilly disrupted my thoughts, asking me if I wanted anything more. If only she knew what I really wanted and how it had walked out of the door thinking I was a brainless git.

I ran my hand over my face and sat there for a few minutes before sleep started to overcome me. I left the butterbeer bottle on miniature table and, in a drowsy state; I trudged back to the dorm.

In my walking slumber, I forgot to check the map and had to face the consequences. "Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall announced, startling me. I put on my best smile and turned to face her.

"Minerva, love, aren't you looking lovely this evening?" I said with a smirk and a saucy, overexaggerated wink. McGonagall pursed her lips.

"You know the drill, Mr. Black," she said sounding bored. "Yes, yes. One week of detention with Filch and fifty points from Gryffindor," I replied.

"I'm feeling generous, Mr. Black. Since you answered correctly, we'll make it just the detentions." I grinned in triumph. "You are the epitome of kindness, Minnie," I said, bowing to her.

"It's Professor. Now, off to bed." With that, she turned with her lips pursed and strolled back down the corridor with her lit wand.

With a chuckle, I took her advice and slid into bed at around one thirty in the morning. Just like before, I got in bed and Hughes floated back into my mind. No matter how hard I pushed her away, she still lingered like a phantom in the corner of my brain.

I wondered if there was a correlation between thinking about her and being in my bed… I would have to figure that out. I considered the thought with a silent chuckle.

After another half an hour and a lot of forcing Hughes out of my mind, I started to fall asleep. One thing I knew, getting up at six was going to be hell, but a part of me, though a part that made me nervous, felt it was worth it, just to talk to her. Oh, Merlin's pants. I thought of her again.

**Molly Hughes's POV:**

The next morning, I sat in a cushy, scarlet chair in Lily's special, head girl room while we talked. She was simultaneously going over prefect patrol shifts while talking about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend as I wrote an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"So… erm… Mol?" Lily asked hesitantly, shuffling some parchment in her hands.

"Yes?" I replied, peering at her from above my parchment.

"Well, I… erm…," she stammered. I felt highly amused. Lily never got flustered and this was a funny sight. Her face looked almost the same color as her flaming hair.

"Just spit it out, Lils," I told her. She nodded, looking more confident.

"I'm going on a date this Hogsmeade," she announced. I smiled brightly.

"That's great, Lils, but why were you so nervous to tell me about it? You've done it before. I'll just study in the library while you're gone and you have to make sure you tell me all about it and—," I said, but she stopped me.

"I have a date for you, too," she said hopefully. It sounded more like a question.

"No."

"Well, actually, I already said yes for you…," she trailed off nervously, biting her fingernails.

"You what?! You set me up on a blind date with someone that I don't even know? I've already told you, Lily, that I'm not interested in anybody here. You know how socially awkward I am," I shrieked in panic. Oh shite. My anti-social tendencies were showing.

"Molly, don't be ridiculous. You don't know anybody here. I am your only friend. Just get to know him; he's nice and he's really excited to go this Saturday," she argued. "Just branch out a little bit. Take a risk for once in your life."

I sat and contemplated for a minute with heaving, panicked breaths.

"What's his name?" Lily's face lit up despite my hesitance.

"Oh, I knew you would do it! Thank you so much because I really like this guy. Anyway, your date's name is Ethan McMillan."

"The Hufflepuff beater?" I grimaced slightly. He was in a few of my classes and seemed as interesting as watching grass grow.

"Don't make that face! He's nice and he really likes you. He gets average grades, so it's not like he's an idiot and he's very fit," she giggled. Honestly, I was still unimpressed, but I refrained from saying so. If I was interested in an imbecilic, fit bloke, I would've started dating ages ago.

"Who asked you?" Lily's eyes lit up.

"Zane Clayworth!" she squealed. I suppressed a smile, but not because I liked him; it was his appearance. He had shaggy, black hair and brown eyes. Clayworth was tall and lanky, but still fit. If you put glasses on him, he looked like James Potter's brother. It also helped that he was the Hufflepuff chaser and captain. Do you see the correlation?

He may have had the appearance of Potter, but they acted completely different. While Potter was cocky in an endearing, though slightly annoying way, he had this humbleness to him that I could see in his eyes and a love for Lily that broke my heart. Clayworth, on the other hand, tended to be overly confident in an arrogant and prat-ish sort of way that made others feel inferior. He lacked Potter's charisma and boyish charm to balance out his narcissism. Also, there was something in the way he watched girls that made me squirm. It seemed that he more leered at them. He may have been a great quidditch player, but I wasn't fond of him as a person.

"That sounds nice, so why do I have to go?" I whined. "You don't need a babysitter."

"Because Ethan asked about you and I said that you would love to. You need to get a life. Plus, Zane said he wouldn't go without Ethan; he doesn't want to leave him by himself all day," she said bluntly. Maybe it was harsh, but she was right, even if I went out on a date with a bloke that couldn't stand being alone for one minute. He seemed needy. Maybe I could take one for the team this one time.

Ever since I started Hogwarts, I had thrown myself into my studies, trying to be the best that I could be. No matter what I did, though, it was never good enough for my parents to care or even notice, which was what my original goal was.

Truthfully, I just felt awkward whenever I met new people, especially blokes. I felt like people tried too hard to make polite conversation and it made me feel uncomfortable. I'm not someone who needs to fill the silence. If Lily hadn't talked to me that day on the train, I wouldn't have any friends.

"Please, please, please…," Lily begged with large, puppy eyes.

"Alright," I relented. My friend didn't hear me.

"Come on, Mol. Can't you just—did you just say 'alright'?" I nodded wearily. Lily jumped off her bed and squeezed me in an enormous hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I've got to get my work done if I want to have Saturday free. I'll see you later, Mol. You're the best! I'll buy you something pretty!" She ran out of the door while I was left in her room, regretting my decision.

I packed up my school bag with a sigh and went into the Head's common room to leave, hoping that Saturday would never come.

"Ahem," I heard from a person behind me. I spun around to see a very sullen-looking James Potter.

"Did you need something, Potter?" I asked with my normal bored voice. He looked nervous.

"You're Lily's friend, right?" I gave him an amused look.

"With that know-it-all? No, actually we hate each other. Couldn't you notice?" I joked, laying it on a little too thick. Potter gave a small, polite smile that didn't reach his eyes and then went back to his worried expression. Even with my horrible joke, he normally would have laughed a bit.

"Is Lily really going to Hogsmeade with Clayworth?" I looked at him sympathetically.

"Potter, I'm sorry, but she is," I told him, trying to break it to him softly. He looked like a kicked kitten. Pain flashed in his eyes, but quickly was gone and replaced by anger.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled. Potter turned to me. "What am I doing wrong? Doesn't she get that I love her? Does she not know that going out with… with him, or any other bloke, is killing me? Does Lily even care?" He kicked the coffee table without even flinching and slammed his hand down on the oak.

Once he got his anger out, he stood still. For the first time, I saw him look defeated. He slumped down on the deep red sofa and stared at the fire crackling in the fireplace with his hand curled into a light fist and his knuckles already swollen. My heart went out to him and I sat next to Potter, hoping to make him feel better. He really _did_ love Lily.

"She doesn't get it, Potter, because you don't let her know how you feel," I told him. Potter looked confused. "I ask her to Hogsmeade constantly and talk to her all the time. How does she not know? Lily is brilliant. She should know." I shook my head.

"You may say that, but Lily doesn't think you mean it," I explained.

"But—."

"No 'buts'. You know that when you try to say how you feel, you are constantly surrounded by your friends, so instead of being serious—," he stopped me with his usual cocky smile.

"Why would I want to be Sirius?" he joked. I rolled my eyes, but a small laugh escaped me. It was refreshing to see him act more normal.

"As I was saying, instead of not joking around, you make a mockery out of yourself and Lily. She doesn't like it," I told him frankly. A look of recognition dawned on his face.

"So I need to be more genuine, yeah?" he realized. I hesitated.

"Yes and no. To tell you the truth, you've kind of… mucked things up a bit with her, and I'm understating it to spare your feelings." He gave me a glare. "Just being sincere won't help you anymore. You need to be open. She needs to trust you and get to know the real you before you ask her out. Not just the overconfident Marauder, but the real person that I'm talking to right now; the person who cares about her. She has to want to be your friend first. Show a little vulnerability." Potter looked lost.

"How do I do that?" he asked hopelessly. I bit my lip and concentrated on forming a plan, but came up with nothing.

"Erm… I hadn't planned that far," I told him, scratching the back of my head sheepishly. "But, you don't need to worry about that at the moment. First things first, we need to sabotage that date." Potter looked shocked.

"You would do that? For me?" he asked incredulously. I scoffed at Potter.

"No. I would do it for Lily. I think you are better for her than Clayworth is. Something about him is… off. Just leave the plan to me. You'll know what to do," I stated. "Plus… Ethan McMillan bores me to tears. I need something to do during that date." Potter chuckled while I blushed, feeling kind of guilty at my admission.

"Thanks anyway, erm…," he hesitated, not knowing my name. I sighed. This was happening too often for my liking.

"Molly Hughes."

Recognition dawned on his face.

"Oh, so, you're Hughes. That figures. Now, I know who—," he blabbered, but stopped talking and looked like he said too much.

"Now you know who what?" I asked feeling puzzled. James eyed the room nervously as if wanting a way out.

"Well… erm… it's nothing, Hughes," he said and I let him drop it… for now.


End file.
